


Open Bar

by RedFreyr_TheSmall



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Dirty Talk, F/M, Gags, Humiliation, Interrogation gone wrong, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Predicament Bondage, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Spreader Bars, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Suspension, Threesome - M/M/M, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFreyr_TheSmall/pseuds/RedFreyr_TheSmall
Summary: Welcome to the Open Bar! The place to hear salacious tales of heated situations. So pull up, have a seat, and grab a glass. We'll fill you up with something tasty.A collection of transformers bdsm smutty one-shots I couldn't hold back on. Pairings and situations will vary.Rodimus could be described as many things, most of them referring to his childish nature. Still no one had ever called him a hedonist. He would hardly call himself that either. Except at this moment, he sure as Pit felt like he was being hedonistic.





	1. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bexacaust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/gifts).

IDW Ultra Magnus/Rodimus/Megatron

Rodimus could be described as many things, most of them referring to his childish nature. Still no one had ever called him a hedonist. He would hardly call himself that either. Except at this moment, he sure as Pit felt like he was being hedonistic. Probably had something to do with the fact that he had one huge attractive mech sucking on his spike and another one eating out his valve from behind. He’d been told to brace his hands on the bar above his head, lowered on chains and hanging down for him. He got the distinct feeling he’d be tied up to it later. Which was fine by him.

He already had one leg lifted and tied up, hoisted and kept out of the way by a set of soft cabling that rubbed lightly at his seams. It left him completely bared and kept him open to manipulation. Which seemed to suit the other two mechs just fine as he was tugged and pulled back and forth. His spike was lapped and suckled at, and his valve was torturously teased, wet glossa thrusting into his soaking valve and teasing at nodes. His body was quivering with need unsure whether to thrust into the mouth taking his spike or rock his hips back into the one claiming his valve.

He whined, holding on to the floating bar above his head and bit his lower lip between his denta, unable to stand the quickly building charge running through his frame. Still he hissed as the mouth lapping at his valve pulled away. “Ugh, come on Megs…you’re killing me here.” Rodimus muttered, arms nearly shaking as they gripped the bar above his head.

Megatron chuckled and tapped Ultra Magnus, the other large mech slowly pulling off of Rodimus’ spike. Rodimus groaned further and glanced plaintively up at his second in command. “Mags, please, I was getting so close.”

“I know, that’s why I told him to stop.” Megatron mused into the prime’s audial, reaching down to tweak one of Rodimus’ seams near his waist, delighting in the way the prime nearly jumped at the shock of pleasure it sent directly up his spine. “We’re trying to make this last remember? That means drawing this out…not just for Magnus and I, but for you too.”

“Of course you’d say that. You’re the one that plots.” Rodimus huffed, although his EM field was flaring with amusement and desire.

“You’re right, I am, which is why I’m the one who gets to call the shots tonight.” He ran his hands up Rodimus’ sides and absently fondled the little prime’s spoiler. Rodimus let out a stuttering ex-vent and shivered, his vocalizer hitching as the sensitive piece of equipment was teased.

“If you don’t like the way Megatron is running things, Rodimus, you can always show him how you prefer things next time.” Magnus stated, ever the voice of reason as he leaned in to nibble and suck at the sensitive cords of Rodimus’ neck. He gave a low moan and leaned forward against the big blue bot.

“Mags…come on, please. Magnus…I need it so bad.” he muttered, his voice going deep with want as he leaned in, plates flaring as his fans whirled high.

“You should be pleading to me little Prime.” Megatron purred, his large hands grasping Rodimus’ hips and slipping into the seams near his open interface array. His fingers didn’t slip in but it was enough to make Rodimus buck, his body quaking and seeking out those warm hands. “Remember who’s in charge here…or should I remind you?” he growled, giving Roddy a sharp smack on the rear.

The young prime yelped and couldn’t help rocking his hips forward, brushing his spike against Ultra Magnus’ thigh and leaving a trail of pre-fluid behind. “Un! Hey! Watch the merchandise! You dent it you buy it!” he bit off.

“You’re fine. You can take it. I know you can.” Megatron chuckled, smacking him on the rear once more before he slipped his servo down further and teased the edges of his valve. “Just like I know you’ll be able to take this.” He growled, rubbing his thick spike across the stinging plates of Roddy’s aft. He guided his spike to the folds of Rodimus’ valve and rubbed against the soft mesh, teasing the sensitive outer nodes.

Rodimus let go of the bar above his head to reach out and cling to Ultra Magnus, holding on to his shoulder stacks as Megatron rubbed over his array and teased at his entrance. “Mm! Mff! Magnus…please. Please I …I need it. I need you. Please, give it to me.” he begged, shivering as Megatron continued to prod his valve.

“I already told you Rodimus. If you’re going to beg anyone, beg me.” Megatron growled pulling Rodimus’ head back by his helm. He grinned at Magnus over Rodimus’ shoulder and dragged the Prime back against him. “Put his hands back on the bar would you Magnus? And make sure they stay there.”

Rodimus whined but didn’t resist as Magnus reached down to the little toy chest they’d pulled out for this whole event before it even started and tugged out a pair of cuffs. He wrapped Rodimus’ wrists up in the cuffs and then attached them to the bar, forcing Rodimus to keep his hands up and out of the way. The young prime gave a pout and grumbled. Magnus couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the young bot and leaned in to kiss him, to ease some of his agitation. Rodimus leaned into the kiss and was happily distracted, something which Megatron was thankful for. Anything to keep Rodimus’ mouth shut for awhile.

He used the time Magnus spent kissing Rodimus to slide his spike into Roddy’s valve. The prime broke from Magnus’ kiss to rear back and gasp, shivering as Megatron pushed his large spike deep into Rodimus’ tight, wet valve. “Oh! Oh frag! Megs! Mmff! That-that feels so good!” he mewled.

The silver mech chuckled, gripping Rodimus’ hips and tugging him back as he thrust forward, burying himself in as deep as he could. Rodimus whimpered and leaned his head forward, letting it thunk against Magnus’ shoulder. “There we go, Rodimus, you’re finally calling out the right designation aren’t you? Still…we shouldn’t ignore Ultra Magnus should we? Magnus, it appears that Rodimus’ spike is unaccompanied. Why don’t you give it some attention?” he suggested.

Ultra Magnus shot Megatron a glance but smiled and slowly went down to his knees. Rodimus watched, entranced until Megatron thrust back into him once more, drawing out a sharp cry as his spike pounded into the prime’s ceiling node. When the thrust was punctuated with Magnus sliding his mouth over his aching spike Rodimus nearly sobbed in pleasure, his hands flexing in their binds. He rocked and groaned with every hard meeting of Megatron’s hips against his aft, his valve gushing lubricant as he was fragged from behind and sucked dry from the front.

He whined, unable to focus, drawn between both of the bigger bots like a magnet tugged between two poles. Megatron’s hands traveled upward, one arm wrapping around Rodimus’ chest and tugging him back, holding him close as the other gently traced and teased his spoiler. Ultra Magnus’ hands were wrapped around his waist, keeping him grounded, pulling his hips toward his waiting maw. He couldn’t move, easily twisted up and bound as he was. He was completely under their control and he loved it. He had never felt more worshipped in all his life, not even when he held the matrix in his hands. He could feel Megatron’s hand inching up, teasing the cabling in his neck as the big silver mech screwed him from behind, pushing him forward into Magnus’ mouth.

“Remember who’s inside of you. Who’s mouth is around your spike. You’re not in charge. Not right now, not here. You can let go Rodimus.” Megatron murmured into his audial, and the younger prime sighed, leaning back against Megatron with a soft moan as he surrendered to what he was being given. When his overload came it came like a slow wave, rolling over him and cresting…crashing down and leaving him shaken in its wake. He called out their names, one after another, transfluid and lubricant flooding out of him. He could feel the way his overload triggered Megatron’s, the big bot filling his valve full of transfluid.

He panted, whining as Megatron pulled out and carefully untied his leg, gently letting it drape down. “I hope you don’t think we’re done Rodimus. You still have Ultra Magnus to satisfy after all.” Megatron told him, gently rocking Rodimus forward into Ultra Magnus’ grip.

Rodimus leaned against the big blue bot, nuzzling against his neck. He grinned and tipped his head back slightly to stare at Megatron out of the corner of his optic. “Good. He’s nicer to me.” he teased.

Megatron gave a huff and tugged on Rodimus’ spoiler. Rodimus hissed but chuckled as he glanced back at Megatron and grinned. “Aw come on Megs, can’t you handle a little ribbing?”

Megatron stared at Rodimus and then glanced up at Ultra Magnus. “Do me a favor Magnus, spike him and shut him up.”

Rodimus laughed, until Magnus’ hands wrapped around his waist and his large shaft sank into his well-used valve. His words died and he lifted his legs to wrap them around Magnus’ waist, clinging as the large blue bot took him for a ride. Megatron stayed at his back, teasing his spoiler and muttering poetry and filth into his audial. Neither one of them ever let him go, which was just fine by Rodimus. He had no plans of leaving the space between them anytime soon.


	2. Like I Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream enjoys some time with his favorite toy.

Starscream leaned back in his seat and smiled as he watched the elegant lines of the bot in front of him. The arch of his back and the strikingly angular sweep of his helm finials were arrestingly attractive. Getting him off of his pedes was difficult, the thick ankle struts creating a surprising set of challenges when Starscream was stringing him up and binding him to his pleasure. The trick was spreading his legs and pulling him up by his arms so he was forced to dangle. If he did it high enough, as he had now, the sweet red mech scraped his toes against the floor, barely able to stay on them but needing to put weight on them to take the weight off his arms. He was lovely and Starscream sat, sipping enjex as he watched him writhe, enjoying the sight as he would enjoy a particularly interesting painting.

Transfluid dripped from the bound mech’s valve and down his legs, leaving a small puddle upon the floor. Occasionally his legs quivered from the strain or the pleasure, the toy inside his valve pulsing in an uneven rhythm to keep his charge high but always leaving off just when he really needed it. Every once in awhile he released a muffled whimper or moan around the gag Starscream had carefully placed in his mouth. He hadn’t blindfolded him because as much as Starscream wanted to watch the other mech fall to pieces, he also wanted that lovely red speedster to look and know who had complete control over him.

It was intoxicating this feeling, he’d become lord of everything and he still had to prove himself, had to keep on edge and prove to everyone that he was MORE than what he’d offered. But here all he had to do was say that he was in charge, and he was obeyed. Absolutely obeyed. It was everything he’d ever wanted. Absolute power, even if it was only here, with this one bot. He set his drink aside and folded his hands together and set them over his crossed legs. “Release your spike.” he commanded.

Rodimus glanced up at Starscream and vented hard behind his gag but after only a moment of hesitation his second panel slid open and his spike released, pressurizing immediately and standing firm. It throbbed and the pointed tip leaked as his blue optics stayed locked on the Lord of Cybertron, fluids dripping out from around his gag as his bio-lights pulsed with the beating of his spark. His legs shivered, toes scrapping against the floor as he tried to roll his hips into the feel of the pulsing false spike buried and trapped inside of his valve.

Starscream hummed and smiled indulgently, tilting his head and grinning at the sight of his obedient pet drawn up for his amusement. He chuckled and purred, “What a sight you make. Dripping and drawn up like a doll. As if you’re my toy. Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?”

Rodimus nodded, giving a muffled mewl of ascent as his fangs bit down on the wide gag in his mouth. Starscream grinned in satisfaction. It was so nice to say something and simply have someone obey. To have someone listen absolutely and not argue the point. It was just an added bonus that the bot was beautiful as well as obedient. “You’re lovely like that. My pretty toy. Wrapped up just for me.” He drawled, slowly getting to his feet.

Rodimus’ EM field flared with pleasure and adoration as Starscream approached him, blue optics looking up at him with need and desire. Starscream shushed him, as the bound bot whined behind his gag, gently running his servos over Rodimus’ face. “Shh, there you are my beautiful toy, I have you. You’ve been very good for me, haven’t you?”

The autobot nodded, shivering where he was strung up, his optics pleading with Starscream, his EM field a riot of desire. Starscream’s jets purred with the feeling, enjoying the feel of the other’s EM field brushing up against his own, letting his adorable toy feel his own lust. Rodimus mewled and leaned into Starscream’s hands, his hips bucking as the false spike inside of him pulsed to life once more. Starscream chuckled and reached a hand down to feel the new surge of liquid that escaped the red bot’s valve. “Look how needy you are, my little slut.” He purred, leaning in to nibble at the small, sensitive juncture of Rodimus’ neck.

The other bot moaned and shook, stumbling slightly as his pedes lost their grip. Starscream tutted and drew away to give the mech a sympathetic glance. “Oh, poor thing. I forgot I left you on your toes, well…why don’t we fix that?” he drawled. He flew up to where he’d hooked the cabling that kept his plaything tied and suspended and slowly loosened the tension until Rodimus could once more stand completely on the full expanse of his pedes. The lean red bot let out a thankful groan and let his arms sag slightly even if Starscream hadn’t relinquished all of the cabling’s tension. His hands were still suspended over his head, although he could lower them nearly all the way to his helm now, whereas before they’d been strung up tight.

Starscream lowered himself back down to earth and ran his servos over the delicate spoiler and harder armor of Rodimus’ back and arms, testing to see that he hadn’t injured himself. Finding nothing of worry he hummed and slid behind the other bot, reaching his hands around to fondle over the seams of the speedster’s chestplate. Rodimus whimpered and leaned into Starscream’s hands, his blue optics fluttering with pleasure. He ground his hips back, hoping to rub against Starscream’s plating. His rounded aft rocked against the seeker’s interface array and Starscream couldn’t help the softly uttered moan that left his mouth. “Mm, yes, that’s good. You want me don’t you, want your master to satisfy you isn’t that right?”

An excited nod answered him and Starscream chuckled, tracing his servos down over rounded hips struts, hiding joints and protoform, to the transformation seams connecting at Rodimus’ thighs. The prime squirmed, breath catching as he pushed into the touch. Starscream hummed and pulled one hand away, leaning back to push against Rodimus’ back with an insistent but altogether gentle pressure. “Lean forward, spread your legs wider, and stick out that cute aft of yours. Show me how much you want me.” He commanded.

Rodimus let out a soft whine behind the gag but obediently followed the order, bending forward as much as the cabling would allow, pushing out his aft and spreading his legs, knowing that the magnet restraints would never allow him to close the gap he’d just created. The picture he presented was lovely, the mesh lips of his valve were clenching against the toy still trapped within him, buzzing in its pulsing rhythm that was just enough to keep him revved but never gave him what he really wanted. Besides, Starscream knew his pet all too well, a toy would never satisfy him the way his master’s spike could. He unsnapped the brace he’d used to keep the toy secure and slowly drew it out, listening to the way Rodimus mewled and watching as his valve clenched down as if trying to keep it inside before the speedster remembered his place and manually forced his calipers to release. His spike pulsed and dripped a line of transfluid straight toward the ground to join the rest.

“What a mess you’ve made. I’ll have to have you clean it up after we’re done here. Maybe I’ll make you use your tongue…and frag you while you do it. You are, after all, a good slut who will do whatever I say, aren’t you?” Starscream asked, trailing a sharp servo over the outer lining of Rodimus’ pulsing valve.

The hot rod nodded, giving his consent into the gag, the muffled words grabbled but the flare of lust and desire in his EM field all too clear. The pure submission was all too beautiful to Starscream and he let go of the instinct to hold back his coo of affection. He didn’t have to hold back. Not here. Not with this bot. There would be no judgements here. And when he was done Rodimus would thank him, adore him, would say nothing of what transpired to anyone, and would always come back for more. The heady rush he felt from that knowledge made his hands shake as they gripped the Prime’s hips and tugged him back with a sharp jerk, delighting in the muffled cry and flare of delight the action elicited from the other.

“My perfect, submissive, toy. I am going to frag you until I’m satisfied and you better not overload until I tell you.” He growled into the red speedster’s audial, soaking up the feeling of utter elation that passed through his field. “If you do, I’ll have to punish you won’t I?”

The drawn out moan he received was answer enough and Starscream purred his own pleasure at hearing it as his interface panel snapped open and his spike pressurized directly into the waiting valve. Rodimus pulled up on his binds, his servos clenching as he cried out behind his gag, relief, gratitude, and ecstasy singing out through his field as he pushed back against Starscream’s spike. He tilted his head to stare back at his master, blue optics nearly watering with the intensity of his joy at finally being filled with his master’s spike. Starscream smiled back at the worshipping gaze and leaned over to place a kiss against one of Rodimus’ angled finials on his helm.

“My lovely toy prime, what I wouldn’t give to show you off to the Mistress of Flame. See her face as she realizes one of her living gods willingly submits to me. That Optimus Prime’s protege is my beautiful slut.” he praised, the idea taking shape in his processor and refusing to leave. The idea of letting all of them know, every single last mech in the galaxy know, that he had tamed a Prime. That he, Starscream, who was so cast off and berated by everyone had taken a living symbol of Primus and bent them to his will. And Rodimus would do it, wouldn’t he, because the lovely mech adored him. A Prime, a slagging Prime, bent the knee to him and did anything he asked. Just him and him alone.

How many bots had claimed that Starscream was drunk on power? He’d never quite accepted or felt that was the case, until now.

He drew his spike out slowly, only to slam back in, listening to the tender sound that was Rodimus’ passionate mewls. He repeated the action once more and then could no longer stand the gag preventing him from hearing the other’s smooth voice. Normally Starscream preferred to hear no voice but his in the berth, but Rodimus’ languid drawl was an exception. His sultry tones had no grating edge and couldn’t dip deep enough to make Starscream recall less pleasant encounters. Like the rest of him, it was sinfully pretty. He reached up and tugged away the gag, the prime adjusting his jaw as the large thing was taken away and tossed somewhere onto the ground. Starscream would worry about it later, right now he had other things to preoccupy him.

“I want to hear your cries, but I don’t want to hear anything but yes, my name, or my title pass through those pretty lips of yours, are we clear?” he demanded, tapping a servo against the Prime’s soft mouth.

Rodimus ex-vented shakily and nodded, absently kissing the servo that was pressed to his lips and smiled affectionately back at the seeker. “Yes, Lord Starscream.”

Starscream’s optics widened and he shuddered, letting out a low moan as he grinned and let his EM field announce his glee. “Such a good slut.”

This time when he drew back to thrust back into that tight, wet, wanting valve, the response was a loud moan and a static-filled utterance of his name. The seeker’s wings flared and preened in response. He picked up the pace and increased the strength behind each thrust, pounding into the bot beneath him hard enough to make him rock on his pedes, the cabling swaying just a little as the prime kept his position. The seeker purposefully angled each thrust to rub against as many of Rodimus’ interior nodes as possible, dragging his spike across them on every movement and slamming into his ceiling node with each hard slam of his hips. Starscream may not have had much girth but he had length and skill to make up for it, and he knew it was more than enough for the captain of the Lost Light, particularly when he was bound, revved up, and helpless.

If he’d had any doubts they were washed away by the sea of cries that poured from Rodimus’ mouth, shouts of his name, his title, demands of yes angled with needy moans. He could feel the speedster’s charge sparking under his armor, each one hiding sensitive seams and protoform beneath. Starscream leaned over to tease at the edges, licking and nibbling around the armor, dragging out hiccups and soft whines from Rodimus. His body gave helpless quivers each time the seeker’s denta or glossa touched at the charge running hot and electric across his seams and over his protoform. His optics were sparking, nearly leaking as he was fragged senseless, bound with his legs spread uncomfortably wide.

Starscream felt his spike throb inside of that lovely frame’s valve, desperate, on the edge of his own overload. He traced his sharp servos down the Prime’s sides, holding on to his hips and digging in just sharp enough to hurt. Rodimus threw his head back on a keening whine, crying out Starscream’s name and sobbing as he clung to the cabling binding his wrists and keeping them lifted. Starscream groaned, enthralled by the sound of his name called out with such utter desperation and lust. His thrusts grew erratic, his body aching, his charge fraying under his frame until finally it burst forth.

He gripped the Prime’s hips close to his own, riding out his overload bent over the other bot, venting hot air against the back of Rodimus’ neck. His transfluid dripped from the overstuffed valve, trailing down to join the puddle of pinkish fluid lying between Rodimus’ pedes. The lean speedster let out a helpless sob, whimpering Starscream’s title and grinding back against Starscream’s hips. The Lord of Cybertron took pity on his bound up toy and reached down with one hand to rub over the Prime’s anterior node.

The red bot jolted and flinched at the attention to his sensitive node. He twisted in his binds and whimpered, biting his bottom lip, baring his denta. Starscream smirked, his jets purring in delight as his toy shook and cried out, unable to help himself as he dripped fluid and writhed under Starscream’s hands. He tugged Rodimus’ head back with his free hand and nipped at the hot rod’s tender audials.

“Cum for me, little Prime. Cum for me, my little slutty toy.” He hissed directly into Rodimus’ ear as he worked over the Prime’s outer node just fast and hard enough to make the speedster cry out, sobbing coolant from his optics as his frame was wracked with his overload.

Rodimus’ entire frame jerked against his bonds, unable to stop the helpless flailing as the strong charge was finally released. Once it passed and the flame colored bot was calm once more he tilted his head back and sent Starscream a slightly sloppy grin. Starscream could not help but smile back, tilting the Prime’s chin and leaning in to nibble on the speedster’s bottom lip. Almost lovingly Starscream drawled out his plans, for once holding nothing back, “Oh I am going to destroy you my pretty Prime. Absolutely, wreck you.”

The response was an obedient and beautifully submissive response that sent Starscream’s spark soaring. “Yes, Lord Starscream, anything for you.”

Starscream very nearly did break his toy that evening, but it was worth it… to be worshipped as he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the second in the series. I've altered the tags to reflect the new pairing. This one is a little more hardcore than the last one but hopefully the tags clued you in to what would be going on.


	3. Red on White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet spends some alone time in a cell with the Decepticon's CMO.

“This was not what I had in mind when I agreed to this interrogation.” Ratchet muttered, his venting slightly erratic as he leaned back against the shielded glass of the cell door.

Slowly the red mech sitting on his knees before the medic pulled off of his spike with a lewd ‘pop’, licking at the tip as he hummed and smirked at the war-weary bot. “I could always stop if you’d prefer.” Knockout offered, the decepticon smirking.

Ratchet growled and tugged the bot back onto his spike with a sharp pull to his angled helm, driving back into that warm and waiting maw. “I wasn’t asking for your commentary I was simply stating a fact for my own peace of processor.” he growled, rolling his hips into the other medic’s mouth and delighting in the feel of the other mech’s glossa, feeling it curl around his spike and stroke it as well as any servo.

This sort of thing would normally be against his purview, he wasn’t exactly the sort of bot who took advantage of a prisoner. But this wasn’t the first time Knockout had wound up in one of their cells. Nor was it the first time Ratchet had gotten a taste of what his talented tongue could do. To the medic’s ever growing consternation it seemed as if the decepticon speedster was going out of his way to be captured, if only to get a chance at seducing the autobot medic once more. He was not, altogether, unsuccessful. Perhaps it was the young mech in him that had sought out excitement and danger in his past, but there was something intoxicating knowing that he could so easily put this deadly bot on his knees. The knowledge that every time his spike sank into that wonderfully enticing mouth he was potentially seconds away from getting caught by his fellow autobots and ruining every bit of respect he’d ever earned through millennia of hard work.

Yet no one ever came across them. Every time Ratchet called the vain glorious bot’s bluff he surrendered almost eagerly, bending his knee, baring his neck, giving up complete control. Sometimes Ratchet hated the thrill the sight sent through him. Each time he wondered if the rumble the sight of the curvy red mech on his knees put into his engines was the same kind of enjoyment Megatron got out of ruling like a tyrant. Ratchet never wanted to be like that. He was medic and there was too much of him that cared.

And still he wound up here, Knockout on his knees, mouth spread wide around his spike, all too happy to overload straight down that constricting throat. The street racer bobbed his head and lewdly slurped over the head of Ratchet’s spike, his talented glossa flicking under the head of the medic’s tool, teasing it. Knockout’s engines purred and when he slid back down he was moaning around the prick in his mouth and slipping down his intake as if he was devouring a tasty energon treat.

Ratchet groaned and shot the other medic an exasperated look, “Would you cut that out? Nobody needs their ego stroked that much, let alone an old mech like me.”

Knockout pulled off of Ratchet’s spike slowly, giving the tip a parting kiss before he sat back on his heels and lifted a spiked brow at the other bot. “Was I making noises? Hm, I suppose that was because I was enjoying myself.” he quipped, smirking wickedly up at the autobot emergency vehicle. 

Ratchet growled and placed a hand on the deception’s head, giving him a firm but gentle push backward. The sleek red mech went back without argument, falling half on his side and staring up at the medic in surprise. “If that’s how it’s going to be why don’t we give you something better to moan about.” Ratchet replied with a twisted smile of his own.

Knockout gave a visible shudder, his crimson plates rattling as Ratchet reached down to grasp the other bot by the ankle. He turned him and tugged him closer, causing the red mech to slide over the floor of his cell with a gasp as the ambulance spread his legs wide and revealed his still shut but notably leaking interface array. “Well, would you look at that. You must really get off on this kind of thing if you’re dripping already. I’ve barely touched you.” Ratchet chuckled, before he released one of the butcher’s ankles to reach out and run his talented fingers over the slim belly plates covering Knockout’s more sensitive machinery. He trailed his fingers down to rub over the swollen seam of Knockout’s interface array, pressing where he knew his leaking valve was sure to be. 

Knockout let out a glorified whine, biting his lower lip as Ratchet teased the transformation seams nearest to the delicate equipment. Rather than touching Ratchet, trying to push him away or turn the tables as most decepticons no doubt would have done the speedster let his servos, sharp and pointed like talons, scratch over the floor and spread his legs wider. It was quite accommodating of him and Ratchet took full advantage. He slipped his thumb up to rub over the leaking valve cover as his fingers dipped into the tender seams at his hip, the mech’s narrow waist and narrow hips giving the medic surprisingly more than enough room. The effect was immediate, Knockout threw back his head and keened, back arching as his panel abruptly snapped open, revealing his swollen valve and dripping, tapered spike, red bio lights gleaming like seductive guides to his most sensitive points. 

“Is this why you’ve never let me near your array before?” Ratchet asked, curious and abolishing as he traced a single finger up from the base of the speedster’s puffy valve lips up to where the valve gave way to his spike, amused at just how seductive and lewd the lights seemed, lighting up Knockout’s nodes. What was that human phrase? Just like a flashing neon light? Even his delicate outer node was painted a gleaming gold, pulsing with need as Ratchet took his time to tease and explore the unfamiliar territory. It was both impressive and rather gaudy to have such ostentatious mods after so long spent at war. It spoke to the other medic’s vanity he supposed. 

Knockout cocked his head and huffed, sitting up on his elbows to stare down at Ratchet and his own aroused interface array. “Hardly,” he scoffed, “In case it’s escaped your notice our last few encounters have always been interrupted before we could get much farther than me sucking you off.”

Ratchet gave it a moment of thought and concluded that while his tone left much to be desired the red-eyed butcher was, in fact, correct. Each time they somehow always managed to get caught or disturbed as soon as Ratchet had reached his overload thanks to the decepticon’s clever tongue and talented mouth. “Hm, well we’re definitely going to have to correct that then.” he purred, smirking as his statement had Knockout’s mouth opening in a touch of awe.

Ratchet descended before anything else could be said, pressing his mouth to the weeping valve on display before him and drinking in the startled whimper it dragged out of the red mech poised on the floor. He slipped his glossa into the sensitive mesh of Knockout’s valve and teased the nodes he could find, feeling the electric charge that was slowly building up within the other bot’s frame. His pointed chevron gently nudged against the speedster’s anterior node as he pushed in closer and had to admit that his rival medic had a pretty voice when he cried out in bliss. His voicebox stuttered as Ratchet continued his oral exploration of the other bot’s array, reaching up with a clever hand to rub the underside of ruby rimmed mech’s pulsing spike.

Knockout writhed upon the ground, his wheels catching on the ground and nearly spinning in place as his engine growled. The powerful racing engine nearly causing the other mech to vibrate beneath Ratchet. Knockout’s armor rattled prettily, almost tinkling like those wind chimes some humans were so fond of. The sound was almost musical as the red mech twitched and scrabbled against the ground, his muscles quivering beneath the steady actions of the ambulance pinning him down. “Ra-Ratchet…” he mewled, talons leaving noticeable gouges in the floor of his cell. “Ratchet, please. Please I…Oh.” he muttered, processor skipping as his mounting pleasure drowned out much of his ability for higher thought.

Ratchet chuckled, pulling back to circle Knockout’s golden anterior node with his tongue before he wrapped his lips around it as best he could and sucked. The sharp, static filled moan he received for this was enough to make his own spike throb in answer. He pulled back with a low sigh, licking at his lips and grinning up at the other mech. “Did you need something?” he drawled, rubbing his thumb over the soft outer lining of the racer’s valve.

“Mmff, yeah.” Knockout groaned, smiling playfully down at the medic. “I need your damn spike in me.”

The autobot medic chuckled and drew himself up a bit to sit back on his haunches, watching the mech beneath him with some amusement. “Oh is that right?” he hummed, considering Knockout for a moment, watching the delighted and coy smile tick wider as the lighter medic nearly giggled at Ratchet’s wandering gaze and shifting hands. He smoothed his thumb over the juncture of Knockout’s knee, rubbing into a seam where his protoform peeked through. The racer shivered and his breathing hitched, his red optics locked onto Ratchet with a bit of apprehension. No, not apprehension, expectation. Ratchet felt a shiver run down his spine and realized he wanted it just as much as the other medic did.

He pulled Knockout back, tugging him directly onto his spike and making them both moan. The heavy ambulance could feel the warmth and slickness of the other bot’s valve wrap around his spike, the internal nodes where they should be, but throbbing with the beat of the speedster’s fuel pump, the pounding of his spark. It was different, to say the least, but not unheard of or even unnatural. Nor was the amount of lubrication Ratchet could feel dripping out around his spike, pooling upon the floor beneath them both. He groaned as he pulled back, his spike dragging against the interior nodes in the racer’s valve.

Knockout shuddered and whined as Ratchet pulled back, nearly slipping out before he slammed back in, leaving paint transfers he was sure. The smaller bot quivered, his charge flashing from underneath his armor, across tender seams. The autobot repeated the slow, hard thrust, and reveled in the shudder it brought from the mech beneath him. Ratchet smirked confidently, leaning over to wrap his hands around one of Knockout’s servos, pinning it above his head. The sharp flare of lust in the Decepticon’s EM Field was a surprise, and the sudden widening of his optics as the emergency vehicle strengthened his grip on the wrist in his hand. The small whimper he received as a result was lovely and the autobot CMO hummed, grinning as he gave a sharp roll of his hips get his attention.

“Put your hands above your head.” he commanded, and fought back the edge of surprise when the racer snapped to obey, his free hand shooting up beside the other over his head. Ratchet shifted his grip to grasp both of Knockout’s wrists in one servo, holding them pinned to the ground between his gleaming wheels. The speedster shifted and whined a little, arching his back and staring at Ratchet with a vulnerable but needy look in his dark optics. The ambulance’s engines purred in response and the sports car’s valve clenched around Ratchet’s spike.

“Good bot. Who would’ve known that a con like you would enjoy being put in his place?” Ratchet chuckled, and couldn’t help but grin as the other medic glanced away, lips pressed together in embarrassment. Still he didn’t resist as Ratchet held him and his EM field continued to broadcast his desire and excitement. There was no hesitance, resistance, or fear, only interest and lust. A good sign and something which Ratchet clung to as he began to frag the Decepticon straight into the ground.

The cries he drew out of the other mech were echoed in the cell and grew more heated, more desperate, legs spread wide, pedes kicking out or slightly scraping over the floor as Ratchet smacked their hips together hard enough to drag slightly over the floor with each movement. Ratchet hadn’t felt a boost to his ego this strong since he was on synth-en. The power and control he had over this bot was a drug trip more intoxicating than anything else he’d ever tried. He was beautiful and most likely leaving paint transfers all over the floor, all over Ratchet’s thighs, the ambulance could already see the white he was leaving all over Knockout’s legs. Something hungry and pleasurable rose up in him knowing that when they let him go Knockout would be carrying back the evidence of their tryst all over his body for everyone to see.

He groaned and picked up the pace of his thrusts, making the red speedster cry out and whine as his charge flared, flashing and sizzling under his armor, engine revving so hard Ratcher was almost sure he’d red-lined. It was a brilliant and mesmerizing display. Ratchet couldn’t seem to stop himself from leaning down and licking at an open seam that sparked with electrical charge. Knockout gave a sharp whine, his optics flaring wide as his back arched and he slid into overload as if he’d suddenly tripped and fallen into it with surprise. His valve clenched around Ratchet’s spike and the medic nearly found his own end there and then as well if not for some truly herculean effort on his own part. He pulled out at the last moment, spilling his own transfluid over the other mech’s thighs and venting hard as kept his hands on the shaking frame of the racer pinned beneath him.

Knockout sighed and let his head fall back, frame going limp and loose beneath Ratchet as the heavy medic slowly drew back and stared down at the other bot from his knees. Knockout released an indulgent hum and smirked at the autobot CMO, cocking his head as he grinned. “Well Ratchet, did you get what you wanted out of this interrogation…or will I be enjoying your good graces a bit longer?” he purred.

Ratchet couldn’t help but grin back, swatting the red mech lightly on his thigh. “Oh I think I can drag a bit more out of you.This old mech still has plenty of tricks. Now roll over, I’ll show you what you’re missing out on with those cons you’re shacking up with.”

Knockout laughed and obliged, “Mm, well who am I to defy a fellow doctor’s orders?”


	4. Bed Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift, still new to the Wreckers, starts imposing upon Perceptor's empty berth. At least until Percy catches him doing it.

When Drift first began to spend time with the Wreckers no one knew where he was bedding down during his off-cycles. He hadn’t claimed any of the habsuites on board their humble ship and when someone bothered to dare entering the small space he'd taken up for meditating in the cargo hold they often didn’t find him recharging there either. The general idea was that he moved. A couple of the younger and more uninformed mechs suggested he slept in the vents. Perceptor was of the personal opinion that the speedster had most likely found a warm, dry, quiet spot to curl up in and only spent time there when he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed. He didn’t know how right he was until he walked into his own habsuite off of his lab and caught the ex-assassin curled up and asleep in his berth for the first time.

At least, it was the first time Perceptor found him. He realized, staring at the easy rise and fall of the white mech’s vents that he’d probably been coming in and recharging in his room for some time. It made sense at least. Perceptor was the one bot who spent the least amount of time in his own hab suite. It was located off of his lab, which meant it was quiet. And Perceptor’s suite was located above the heating coil for the ship which meant it tended to run warmer than the other suites on the ship. It fit his theory. He just never figured the ex-decepticon would dare take up his berth while he wasn’t in it. It would unnerve him if it weren’t for the fact that he’d always come back to a clean berth. Which was fine…except now when he was exhausted and there was a small, dangerous, swordsmech sleeping in his berth.

Thankfully the warrior was only taking up one small section of the berth, the warmer side…away from the door. It was strange how easy the white bot was to predict. Perceptor studied the situation for awhile. He went in for a quick clean up and a shower and when he came back out, dry and clean, he hoped to have a plan. Only he’d finished his shower, was no closer to one and Drift was still there. Letting out a sigh Perceptor rationalized that Springer would never allow anyone on board who would kill them, and Drift had been doing his best to prove himself as an autobot since they'd found him. So the scientist sighed and climbed onto the other side of the berth, slipping into recharge seconds after his head hit his pillow.

When he woke from recharge at the start of the next cycle shift he was alone. It was as if he’d never come in and found the other bot in his berth at all. It was a bit odd but Perceptor could respect the desire to treat the situation as if nothing had happened. He didn’t expect that there would be a repeat of the event and put it out of his mind for the rest of the cycle. As he finished his shift and retired to his hab suite, a cube of energon in hand he paused and stared.

Drift was recharging in his berth again. The speedster's pointed finials were twitching back and forth idly on the bed, taking up no more space than he had the first time. And yet…he was there again. He must have known that Perceptor was aware he was recharging there and yet, there he was. The scientist huffed but figured there was no sense in disturbing the ex-decepticon since he hadn’t bothered to do so the first time. Instead he finished off his cube of energon, washed, and fell into his berth to recharge. It took him a little longer to fall asleep this time but he managed well enough and the gentle brush of the other bot’s EM field against his own had him slipping pleasantly into a relaxed state.

When he woke up the next morning Drift was gone once more, no real sign he’d ever been there except for the faint warmth on the other side of the berth that denoted the recent presence of another bot. Perceptor ran his hand over the warm spot and got up, he went to his lab first and when he didn’t find the swordsmech there he tried elsewhere. No luck. It seemed he was equally elusive when he was busy working for them as he had been when he was sneaking around and somehow getting into Perceptor’s berth. However now the scientist considered it a challenge. He was going to figure out how Drift was getting in, how he got out, and where he went after that.

If anyone ever asked him about it he might have told them he was simply intrigued by the puzzle their new recruit presented. It wouldn’t exactly be the truth, but it was close enough to keep his responsible instincts quiet. The real truth was, Perceptor wanted to know more about who he was suddenly sharing a berth with. He had the basics of course and they’d all heard the little catch-up session Drift gave them about his missing time. Still, that did little to attribute to what he was like now and what he was up to…why he would continue to return to Perceptor’s berth after the first time he’d been caught.

Perceptor’s first move was to, of course, perform a thorough search of his own quarters. He found a few sources through which one might be able to gain entry to his quarters. The most likely of course being the atmospheric vent that ran from his hab suite, through his lab, and out into the hallway beyond. There was also a bit of loose paneling beneath his berth and the drain would be large enough to fit Drift if he were, perhaps, as nimble as Perceptor suspected. Further inspection showed that the loose floor panel was, in fact, Drift’s main mode of entry, perhaps exit as well although he couldn’t be sure. He thought about closing it but the thought of leaving the puzzle unsolved didn’t sit well with him. So instead he thought of how best to truly find how Drift acted in his suite while he was there. The answer to that was simple enough.

One discrete visit to Steelshot, a known autobot fence and paranoid conspiracy theorist, later and he had all he needed. A few secretly placed minuscule stealth cameras went up in his room and Perceptor felt confident he’d get the answers. He had, of course, also wasted about half of his day but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He was a scientist, one of the brightest minds Cybertron had to offer. He could solve the mystery behind one Rodion mech with boundary issues! He didn’t monitor the feed from the cameras for the rest of his shift but he couldn’t help but feel an itch at the back of his processor to check them. It was almost as if he were a first-time progenitor with a newborn sparkling to check on. He quashed the feeling and stifled it under several demanding and active experiments. Regardless, he was so eager to see if he could solve this puzzle that he finished early.

He loaded up the stream for the cameras and fast-forwarded a bit through the footage until he caught the swordsmech entering his quarters from the panel beneath his berth as he suspected. He watched as the speedster unfurled from his crouch and studied the hab suite to ensure it was empty. He realized the problem almost immediately however as Drift’s optics zeroed in on one of the main cameras Perceptor had hidden. Drift tilted his head at it, then let out a sigh and sat on the berth, crossing his legs and leaning back before he smirked and drew one of his fangs from his back. “Cameras are cheating, Perceptor. If you want the answers to your questions you’re going to have to figure it out on your own…or…you know…you could always just ask.” he said, before he snickered, and gave a flick with his blade, destroying the camera.

Soon enough the white bot had rooted out all of Perceptor’s hidden cameras and destroyed them, leaving the scientist with nothing but more unanswered questions. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit bitter about having his plan upended so easily, particularly because he wouldn’t have needed it if the ex-decepticon hadn’t been so hard to pin down in the first place. He practically stormed into his hab suite after he shut off the stream, fully prepared to find the white and red bot asleep as he had been the last two times …Only Drift wasn’t asleep, he was curled up all right, but his optics were still open and his finials were twitching with alertness. He was hugging one of Perceptor’s pillows, laying down and reading a data pad. Or at least he had been until Perceptor stormed in.

The warrior gave a jolt, and sat up, cycling his optics at the other bot and then smiling. “You never end your shift this early. Get frustrated with a project?” he asked.

“Yes.” Perceptor snapped, stalking in and bracketing the mech on the berth. “You destroyed my cameras.” he accused.

“Steelshot’s cameras you mean.” Drift corrected with a cocky smirk.

The scientist gave a low growl and then his eyes darted to the data pad Drift had been reading. Before the other bot could reclaim it and put it back into his subspace Perceptor snatched it up. He was already reading it as he hopped off the berth and paced away before Drift could grab it back. The ex-decepticon made an affronted noise but he didn’t follow the other bot, simply sat up on his knees on the berth, his face flushed with energon as Perceptor’s optics quickly swept the text. Then, a bit slower than he’d been reading silently, he began to read aloud, smirking as the saucy words rolled off his tongue and the bot behind him shifted with mortification.

“ ‘Transfluid dripped from the bound mech’s valve and down his legs, leaving a small puddle upon the floor. Occasionally his legs quivered from the strain or the pleasure, the toy inside of his valve pulsing in an uneven rhythm to keep his charge high but always leaving off just when he really needed it. Every once in awhile he released a muffled whimper or moan around the gag Suncrier had carefully placed in his mouth.’ My, my you certainly have some interesting tastes in reading material Drift. ‘Lovingly Bound’ correct? The Functionalists tried to have it banned but they just couldn’t keep up with all the copies bots kept making.” he added, turning and grinning wickedly at the speedster perched on his berth, mouth pursed into a thin line.

“It’s a popular romance novel so what?” the curvy bot bit back, shifting to sit at the edge of the berth.

“Romance hm? And here I thought it was mostly over twenty thousand words of nothing but pure BDSM smut.” he commented blithely, waving the data pad in his hand in a teasing manner.

Drift’s face became enflamed with energon and he ducked his head almost shyly. “So…so what?”

Perceptor hummed in thought and flicked through the novel a bit more, careful to keep the ex-deception’s bookmark in place before he crossed his arms and smiled coyly, tapping the edge of the data pad against his elbow. “So…this wasn’t even Marvel the Cable’s most popular works. It’s infamous for sure…but only because it features such a scandalous couple. A racer and a Seeker isn’t it? Now remind me…isn’t Callum, the racer, the submissive in this piece?” he asked, about as innocent as he could be.

The lithe red and white mech on Perceptor’s bed sat up minutely taller, going impressively still. “He is…”

“And Suncrier…he’s a bit of a scientist wouldn’t you say? He even runs experiments on Callum in the book doesn’t he? Or, really, kinky sexual acts under the guise of experiments.” Perceptor amended.

Drift visibly swallowed, drawing up a little and slipping back on the berth as if he were trying to escape from Perceptor’s probing gaze. “He … does. Your point?”

“My point being, I believe I’ve made some headway on that project of mine.” he drawled before he took a pointed step toward the berth and stared with a firm and commanding air. “Lay back, and don’t move until I tell you to.”

Drift looked up at him with wide optics but bit his lower lip and slid backward on the berth to lay down upon it, his vents hitching audibly. He remained laying there, obediently doing nothing as Perceptor turned and poked about in a chest he used to store several items he knew Drift would enjoy. He added most of them to his subspace but turned with a pair of padded cuffs in his hand. “Put your hands out in front of you.” he ordered and watched with a thrill as the warrior obeyed.

“Good boy.” he praised as he slipped the cuffs on and couldn’t help but note the way Drift’s fans kicked on, his face heated with energon. He was careful not to emit a sound but Perceptor had a knack for catching the small details like that. He’d been sparked to catch the minuscule and analyze it. There was nothing Drift could say or do that he wouldn’t see and calculate figures and diagrams for. He’d already established that the ex-decepticon was an intriguing puzzle, as far as he was concerned every little action he made simply helped him solve it.

What the little switch of his fans and flush in his face told him was that the swordsmech was a fan of being praised. It wasn’t unusual, particularly in mechs with hard backgrounds, which he had no doubt Drift had. Perceptor was excited to learn what else he could pull out of the smaller white and red mech. What else could he discover by playing with the pretty bot poised and cuffed upon his berth. “Raise your hands up over your head and leave them there.” He directed, watching with no small amount of pleasure as Drift obeyed without question.

Using a small length of cord he pulled from his subspace Perceptor tied the cuffs loosely to his headboard. “There we are. Now you won’t be going anywhere. Now will you? My good boy…” he mused, tracing a servo over the cuffed wrists. He dragged his hands down Drift’s arms and felt him shiver beneath his grip, slowly looking down to see the way he’d almost shyly ducked his head to the side and half-shuttered his optics, looking up at the scientist with a bit of awe.

He nodded and Perceptor smiled wickedly. He worked his hands lower, feeling into seams and testing sensitive protoform hidden under armor. He found the other bot to be particularly light, even fragile for all that he was capable of. Holding him felt like holding a beaker filled with a dangerous mixture of chemicals, exciting and marvelous all at once. The thrill of discovery filled him along with the lust that raced through his veins as he felt the other mech’s EM field swell with desire. Perceptor got up and sat back, staring down at the slightly shivering mess he’d made of the warrior and hummed, reaching into his subspace once more.

“Bend your knees.” he ordered, and watched as the ex-decepticon performed the act to a ’T’. He ran his hands over Drift’s knees, lightly rubbing over hidden seams and testing sensitive areas before he pushed rather suddenly, forcing the speedster’s limbs up and back. He slid forward and used his thighs to prop up the red and white bot’s lower back so he could have the space to maneuver Drift’s legs as he pleased. Idly he spent a bit of time admiring the attractive curve and point of his pedes, the arch angled and almost delicate, a true marvel of his forging. His agility could be seen in every angle and line of his legs, despite the heavy armor he was clearly built for speed. He took a little extra time to scrape his denta over one of Drift’s ankle rotors and heard the other mech suck in a sharp breath.

He released it out on a low whine and Perceptor couldn’t help but grin at him, delighted with the result, enthused to discover something more. He tugged over a couple of pillows and used them in place of his thighs to keep Drift’s lower back and aft elevated. He revealed the next length of cable he’d taken from his subspace and watched as Drift’s optics widened and his cheeks flushed with energon while Perceptor pushed his legs to bend, fold back, and fall open. He secured him, thigh to calf and anchored his ties to Drift’s waist and torso with a well applied harness. He found the more he bound up the other bot the more the speedster’s EM field reached out with lust and rising appreciation.

It was one more puzzle piece. The warrior enjoyed giving up control. Or rather he preferred not having it all. And that seemed about right. On his own he’d been fine, able to act out with thoughtful plans and well orchestrated plots. Amidst the crowd of the Wrecker’s crew however he shied away and stood in the background, preferring to let others take charge. Outside of the berth it was, perhaps, more subtle but at the moment it seemed glaringly obvious.

With Drift properly bound and strung up, his body put on display and comfortably propped up with pillows, Perceptor was left with a lovely view of his aft and panel. Although the panel was still closed. Still, that was easily fixed. Or it would be if Drift’s interface panel wasn’t so hard clasped, clearly the Circle of Light knew what they were about when they remade a mech. It was clever from a design perspective, elegant and nearly seamless. It created a beautiful silhouette as well. It was also the most frustrating thing Perceptor could think of for a potential interface partner. Still, he was determined. He would solve this problem as he had all the others so far.

He started by rubbing his thumbs against the exposed and sensitive seams of the racer’s hip struts, massaging the delicate protoform that surrounded his joints. The effect was quite clear, Drift mewled and rocked into the touch, his head tipping back to show off more of his thick, muscular neck. It was most likely an instinctive response, however Perceptor felt inclined to take it as an invitation and leaned over to nibble and lick at the lovingly revealed weakness. The ex-decepticon vented deeply, his fans turning on high as Perceptor worked him up. He squirmed in his bonds but didn’t try to pull away or break free. Rather he moaned and rocked into Perceptor’s questing hands.

It didn’t take very long for the tell-tale ‘snick’ of the bound mech’s interface panel opening to reach Perceptor’s audials. He smirked and glanced down, only for his eyes to widen, surprise coloring his features. His panel had slipped aside to reveal a blank canvas of white and black. Pure protoform without a touch of paint or modification. There were only the delicate seams and lines of mesh and softer, giving metal and a line of biolights the same color as his headlights. That his new equipment was unadorned was not a surprise, nor were the tell-tale signs of an only recently broken seal. Drift had not, after all, been in this frame for very long and had, from what he'd said, been put back together from the ground up. What, Perceptor wondered, would the sensitivity on such new equipment be like? He beamed, feeling a surge of scientific delight.

“Well look at this. You really are new all over aren’t you? I’ll have to see just how wonderfully sensitive your new body is, won’t I my good boy?” he purred, his engine revving as Drift let out a sharp groan that cut off and turned into a small gasp with a shudder as Perceptor ran a hand up the side of his tool. He tested the seam where his sharp curves met the smoother metal on the underside and listened to the sweet purr of the racer’s engines.

He slipped his other hand lower, sliding one finger into the quickly dampening valve as he rubbed at the tiny nub nestled beneath the speedster’s spike. The result was instantaneous. Drift jolted in his bonds and he bit his lower lip between his denta on a sharp whine. His spike throbbed and dribbled pre fluid down the length in bubbling spurts. One little touch, a small rub, and he was practically falling apart. It was lovely. Fascinating. Utterly beautiful. Perceptor wanted more. He wanted to see Drift absolutely fall apart.

Fingering his valve open gave him some good results, particularly when he crooked his digits and drew them back toward the entrance of his port in a slow drag. He licked his lips and studied the hazy blue optics of the bot he’d bound and pinned to his berth. Tugging or stroking over his spike brought him pleased grunts and strangled mewls. Lubricant spilled from his valve like a harsh trickle and his spike leaked nearly as much. It made the experience a rather wet and messy one but, if Perceptor was honest, he’d admit that he liked that about this little experiment.

He pulled his hand free from Drift’s valve and smiled as the ex-decepticon whined. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked it clean of the fluids, capturing the blue optics of the bot perched beneath him and holding that gaze with his own. “I think I could quite easily grow addicted to the taste of you.” he purred before he finally allowed his own interface array to open and for his spike to spring free. “But for now I think it’ll be best to work off that charge hm?”

He pulled off the scope he wore over one eye and carefully set it on the table beside his berth, the action forced him to lean over Drift, practically looming over the other bot. Drift shivered and sucked in a breath before he looked up at Perceptor and took in his face…minus the scope. Before Perceptor could stop him the lithe mech had leaned up to kiss and nibble at his chin. The scientist stalled, his optics going wide as he stared down at the warrior, surprised by the tenderness. He was wary of the speedster’s fangs, all too aware of his sharp bite. However, the ex-decepticon’s mouth was more than tempting.

He slid back, cradling the back of the warrior’s neck in one hand and his thigh in the other, pulling him into a kiss as he rubbed his spike over the plush and damp mesh of Drift’s valve. The racer mewled and surged into the kiss, eager and hungry, equally careful of his fangs as Perceptor was. He rocked his hips up as the microscope slid down and suddenly his valve was parting, growing full of hard, angular cord. He tipped his head back and moaned and Perceptor joined him, glancing down to see how they’d joined before he revved his engines and surged forward to bury his spike completely in the speedster’s valve.

Drift let out a low hiss and his optics flickered as his EM field rubbed over Perceptor’s with pleasure. The autobot wasn’t entirely immune either. The mesh of Drift’s valve clung to him so tight he almost believed he was being constricted. “Damn…you’re so tight.” he muttered.

“Well…it is new equipment.” Drift retorted, grinning even as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Perceptor chuckled, and rubbed over the finials on the white and red mech’s helm. “Well, let’s fix that shall we?” he growled before he began to pound into the other bot, delighting in every whine, every sharp inhale or hiss. He even squealed when Perceptor brought their hips together and ground down against him, rubbing the edge of his array against that tiny, sensitive nub. Perceptor had never been particularly large for a bot, in any sense, but he loomed over Drift. He nearly enveloped him, poised over the lithe mech bound up and drawn together he felt almost too large.

Charge danced over and beneath Drift’s armor and the scientist could feel the ex-con’s valve clenching around his spike. He moaned, and tilted his head, tipping it down to speak directly into Drift’s audial. “You’re so close, aren't you? We only just started and you’re going to overlord. What a naughty little slut you are.”

Drift let out a sharp whimper, tugging on his bound wrists as he arched his hips as much as he could. It didn’t take much after that, two more grinding thrusts and the warrior was spilling transfluid over his belly and spilling lubricant from his valve even as it cycled down. It squeezed Perceptor’s spike so tightly it was almost painful. He let out a deep growl, his engines nearly whining as he rocked his hips only a few more times before he was dropping over the edge of overload as well, spilling himself deeply within the other bot. He held himself close, propped up for just a moment before he sat back and stared down at where he was still joined to the racer bound up beneath him.

He took his time untying the ex-con and freeing his limbs, watching with interest as Drift simply let his limbs sag in place. He hummed and rolled his head, the picture of contentment and satisfaction before he glanced down at where his legs were still being lifted by Perceptor’s pillow. “…I think we’ve ruined your pillow.” he muttered, before he burst into a fit of giggles.

The more seasoned autobot looked down and his optics went wide as he confirmed that…yes…the pillow had in fact been stained with a thick mixture of lubricant and transfluid. He shook his head at the warrior’s apparent glee and couldn’t help but grin wickedly, reaching over to grab hold of Drift’s chin, abruptly putting an end to his laughter. “I’m glad you think it’s so funny…because I think that if you’re going to continue spending time in my berth I’ll make sure you know who’s responsible for cleaning up the messes that occur. If you’re good and lick it all up while I eat you out I might even let you overload.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so long. I did not mean for this to be so long.


	5. Caught in a Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend requested I write a smutty fanfic of her OC and mine so I fulfilled her request. So here's her oc Rush getting busy with my oc Spyder.

_[ Pictured below are Spyder, our adorable hunk, and Rush, our lovely lady.]_

  
Spyder finished tying off the last of the silken cables and stood back to observe his work. The light, nearly glowing, spider silk he’d made himself shone on Rush’s blue frame like moonlight. The small amount of energon within it illuminated the entire framework as if covered with tiny fiber-optic filaments. It had taken him some time to get the knots and layering just right but it was worth it. Rush looked beautiful like this. Her arms were tied down to the berth, three lines laying across to keep the forearms laying down but palm up, looped around hooks on the side of the berth he’d installed himself ages ago. Two more lines were wrapped thickly around the base of her arm and wrist, leaving no small areas to rub into sensitive joints while also keeping her arms tethered to the slats of the berth’s headboard.  
  
A delicate corset of crisscrossing wires formed a spider-web pattern over her torso, shoulders, and neck, wrapping delicately to enhance and frame her form without constricting or constraining her to any great extent. He followed the lines with his hands, checking to ensure that none of them would pinch or catch in sensitive places and leave her rubbed raw. His digits traced the loop around her neck down to the crisscrossing lines that framed her delicate headlights and frontal vents. He tip-toed his fingers down under her chest plating and smiled as he heard her suck in a vent when his hands touched sensitive protoform hidden there.   
  
“You doing okay?” he asked, hands still lightly running down and testing his lines, curling along her abdomen and waist.   
  
“M’fine. When are you gonna get on with it?” she huffed at him.  
  
He chuckled and grinned up at her, his fangs flashing across his boyishly charming features. “When I’m good and ready.” he told her, voice a warm and hazy growl of arousal, the spider-like legs upon his back giving a rustling twitch that started from the base and flowed all the way to the tips. He spread these four extra limbs out, working them around where the two-toed ends began to lightly play over her armor. Not testing as his hands were, but working up the charge he could feel humming beneath Rush’s armor as his hands lifted and descended now upon her bound legs.   
  
Connected thigh to calf Spyder had been extra careful of Rush’s limbs, treating them sweetly and with care as he still worried over how much feeling she had in them since her surgery. He’d left the bindings here a bit more loose but ensured now that they would not tear or slip into any dangerous position and keep her legs open and wide for him when needed but also left her open and free to squirm. He studied these far more carefully than he had the rest, taking his time as his extraneous limbs slipped under lines on her chest to run over sensitive lines and exposed inner workings. Each soft breath of pleasure ensure that she was happy and that he needn’t worry.   
  
At last finished with his inspection he let his hands work their way up with slow, deliberate, intention. He let himself slide down, shifting like molasses over the cool sheets of his berth, moving her legs as he went until he had her hips pressed flush to his shoulders and his hands positioned lightly over her waist … and interface cover. “For someone who was so eager to get me in the berth you sure are playing at being stubborn now.” he grumbled, looking up to see a playful light in her optics before he smirked and leaned in to trace his tongue and fangs ever so faintly across her cover in order to feel her shiver beneath him.

He played his talons over her hip faring and into her joints, nuzzling and nosing against her cover with affectionate purrs of his powerful, racer’s engine. He ran the flat of his tongue up over the flat of interface equipment and growled, hands gripping on to her tightly. “Open up or I’ll leave you here and come back when I’m more in the mood.” he told her, green optics nearly sparking with his lust and hunger.   
  
“Ask nicely.” she giggled back breathlessly.   
  
He smiled, sharp denta flashing with a nearly feral playfulness. “Tease.” he told her, before he directed his four extra legs to target just beneath the armor faring upon her back, watching with delight as she gasped in air and arched her body. He held on as she writhed and gave a delighted growl before he looked up at her with a smug smile and in a rumbling tone asked her. “Would you please allow me to devour your delectable valve Rush?”   
  
“Yeah okay...okay.” she barely managed to utter as her equipment snapped open all too eagerly, already dripping lubricant like a tapped faucet.   
  
Spyder’s optics widened and his expression softened, looking down at her and letting his engine idle at a gentle purr. “You’re beautiful...to think I made you this wet. You’re so good to me.” he praised, voice thick with affection as much as it was with desire.

Before she could dare to interrupt him with a comment he set to his task, wrapping his mouth around her anterior node and giving it a soft suckle before he drew back and teased the pulsing node with a circle painted with his tongue. She jolted in his grasp but he held her tight, not about to let her squirm free now that he had her just where he wanted her. He tilted his head and groaned as he lapped up her fluids, nosing against her soft silicone folds. He nibbled carefully over her protomesh, dragging dangerous fangs across her most intimate places.   
  
She moaned, gasped, and shook within his touch, hips arching up against his mouth until his spare legs pinned her back to the berth. Undeterred he forged ahead, tracing words and symbols over her anterior node with his tongue as he ran his thumb firmly up and down over her energon swollen valve lips. On occasion, between painted words of love and passion, he would slide his thumb inside of her, rubbing in slow, firm strokes over her interior nodes, lighting them up one by one until the wet sounds of his work reached each corner of the room.

He felt sparks dance over the surface of his hand and knew she was growing close to her first overload. Not that this did anything to stop him. No, he did not even slow down his treatment of her. Rather he doubled his efforts, sliding down to grind his nose against her node as he pushed his tongue inside of her, drinking down her fluids even as he encouraged her to spill more. He gently pulled his thumb from inside of her and replaced it with two of his digits, remembering to pull his talons back just in time so as to not accidentally hurt her. He pumped them in and out in time with his tongue, rubbing his nose earnestly against her node until she was practically screaming.

She came apart in overload shortly afterward and he purred with delight, staring up at her even as he continued to keep pressed to her sex, lapping and suckling down every drop she spilled into his mouth. He watched her throughout, stroking his free hand over her thigh in a soothing manner until she had calmed and come down from her screaming height. He pulled carefully back from her and hummed his own pleasure, diverting the need to pop his own panels.  
  
“You’re beautiful. Such sweet sounds you made...think you can make them again?” he growled playfully, smirking up at her even as her optics widened and she stared down at him in shock.

“Spyder! I thought we were going to -!” she began, objection raising in her tone.

“And we are, I just really want to hear you screaming my name again.” he purred, his fingers already resuming their earlier thrusting motions within her valve.

Rush cried out and her head tipped back as she rocked her hips instinctively into his hand. “Spyder! Spyder please! I...I want you inside me!” she pleaded, “Stop playing with me already!”

Spyder hesitated, his hand hovering inside of her, still and shaking slightly as he stared up at her with wide optics and a flushed face. She cycled her optics and looked back down at him, tilted her head slightly before she giggled at his rather shocked expression. “You really haven’t done this a lot have you?” she teased.   
  
Spyder gave a growl, his hand thrusting roughly back inside of her to curl his fingers and rub over her ceiling node. “Oh hush. You knew that when we got started.” he retorted, dragging several keening moans from her throat before he withdrew his digits and slowly lowered her legs from off of his shoulders. He drew himself up and crawled up to loom over her, though his soft expression drew away from any threatening air he might have generated.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you or if you’re uncomfortable, right?” he asked her, voice tender and almost shy as he lowered down onto his elbows and kissed her cheek softly.

Rush gave a soft laugh and nodded, “Yes, yes of course. Now come on. I want you in me already. You made a promise and I expect you to fulfill it.”

Spyder gave a short chuckle and nodded, reaching down to position his spike correctly, letting the tip rub against her valve lips before he slowly rocked his hips up into her. His segmented spike dragged and ran over every node within her wet and dripping port. He groaned and she mewled with pleasure, rocking her hips up against him as she muttered something so laced with static it was impossible to tell what she was really saying. He traced his hands up, interlaced them, palm to palm with hers and held on, brushing his fingers lightly against hers as he worked himself in and out of her with careful precision.

Rush shook beneath him and her inner mechanisms clenched around his spike, dragging and pulling on him until he could barely stand it any longer. He moaned and held on tight, his legs shifting around around her to lift her up and hold her tight against his body, thrusting deeper and harder with each movement until he had developed a rhythm that was slowly driving them both to madness.   
  
He cut her bonds with his extraneous limbs, and tugged her as close to him as possible for a bot without actually warping his body around her. He rocked hard and deep within her and held on her hands as tightly as he could possibly dare, fingers intertwining with hers. Her valve fluids dripped and splashed against the base of his spike and he couldn’t help but groan furiously as her legs wrapped around his waist.

She whines and holds tight to him, arching her back and rocking hard against him. She squirmed beneath him and gasped, feeling his segmented spike sections catch and drag along her inner walls. He gasped and his movements stuttered as charge raced out across his frame and danced over his protoform. He clenched his denta and did his best to continue, hands nearly shaking until she lifted her helm and kissed him, distracting him long enough to get control of himself once more.

Not that he lasted long after that. With a set of hard thrusts Rush fell into overload with a sudden and startled cry, her insides clenching and rolling over his spike in such a way that Spyder couldn’t help but fall into it as well. His spike swelled and pulsed inside of her, spilling his transfluid inside of her before he could stop himself. He hovered over her, venting hard as his fans spun attempted to cool his frame down.

Beneath him Rush panted as well, giving a quiet mumble as she nuzzled against him. Their frames pinged as colder air attempted to rapidly cool their overheated bodies and bring their systems back up to top form. As they rested Spyder did his best not to put his full weight onto Rush, finally giving a pant and rolling over to the side. He sighed and with a flick of his leg finished cutting Rush free from her bindings. “I hope that was everything you were looking for.” he muttered, smiling a bit bashfully.  
  
Rush gave a light laugh and turned toward him, sighing and snuggling up against him before she smiled and said softly, “I’ll let you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter despite it being a tiny departure from the norm.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the first of a few independent short one-stories I wrote up for fun. I was convinced to post them here after I got some positive feedback on my other work. I'll probably be updating this one once a week after I get the other chapters edited, but this one needed the least amount of work so up it goes.


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